Pam Vs Food
by Red Witch
Summary: Pam quests for eating immortality by taking several restaurant challenges.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is nursing an upset stomach. Not even this idea is mine. I got it after watching the Travel Channel. And watching a certain show which gave me this idea.**

 **Pam Vs Food **

"Mallory," Lana was surprised as Mallory Archer walked into the office one afternoon. "You're actually **here?** "

"Don't sound so surprised Lana," Mallory grumbled. "I just wanted to check in and see how everyone is doing. Which leads me to the question…Where **is** everyone?"

"Not here," Lana said honestly.

"I can **see** that," Mallory said sarcastically. "Let me guess? Are they on a case?"

"Uh…" Lana paused.

"Let me guess again," Mallory snapped. "A case of **scotch**? Gin? Beer?"

"Probably," Lana sighed.

"I'm guessing you're only here because you are the **only one** with an ounce of responsibility in this office?" Mallory snapped. "As well as backup in case they needed bail."

"Pretty much," Lana sighed. "We haven't exactly had that many cases. Unless you count running errands for Cheryl…"

"Errands?"

"Looking for her ocelot," Lana decided to keep it simple. "Making sure she doesn't overdose on glue. A couple of arson investigations…"

"I see," Mallory sighed. "So basically, this whole agency is now running on the whims of Carol?"

"Pretty much yes," Lana admitted. "It is the only stable income coming into this office…"

"This is worse than I thought," Mallory groaned. "Do I really want to **know** what's been going on around here?"

"It might be better for you legally if you **didn't,** " Lana said honestly.

"Swell," Mallory grumbled. Chanting was heard behind her. "Ah, the idiots have returned!"

"PAM! PAM! PAM! PAM! PAM!" The other members of the Figgis Agency were with Pam cheering her name. Pam was whirling around a blue and pink T-Shirt.

"Hello Morons!" Mallory snapped. "I'm back!"

"Hey! Mrs. A!" Pam hiccupped. "How's it hanging?"

"Is Archer awake yet?" Ray asked.

"Are you leaving now?" Cheryl asked.

"In reverse order," Mallory said. "No. No. And as soon as I can find a rope thick enough to encompass your fat neck, you will find out!"

"You're not happy, are you?" Pam asked.

"Brilliant deduction Fatlock!" Mallory snapped. "Where the hell did you idiots go this time?"

"Pam was working on her restaurant challenge," Ray said. "She won another one!"

"Another _what?_ " Mallory asked. "A free pass to the unemployment line?"

"You've seen those TV shows where people go on and try to beat restaurant challenges?" Krieger asked. "Well Pam is doing the same thing. Only she doesn't have a TV show."

"She's doing the LA Ultimate Restaurant Run," Cyril explained. "That's basically eating and beating all the restaurants in LA that have a food challenge."

"There are seventeen restaurants in LA with extreme food challenges," Krieger said. "And the goal is to complete every single one of them. And get your picture on the walls of all of the restaurants."

"The only other person to do that was Tommy 'The Tongue' Brewkowski," Pam explained. "And that was when the challenge only had eleven restaurants."

"You think The Tongue may try to reclaim the title?" Krieger asked.

"I don't think so," Pam shook her head. "He's really slowed down after his second heart attack."

"Hang on," Mallory held up her hand. "People watching other people eat gigantic amounts of food…Is a **thing**?"

"Are you kidding?" Pam asked. "In some states it's considered a sport!"

"Just when I thought the obesity level in this country couldn't skyrocket any higher…" Mallory groaned. "Gluttony is now a sport. Isn't that one of the signs of the Apocalypse?"

"For the record I agree with you on this one," Lana sighed.

"So, it's not just me is it?" Mallory asked.

"No," Lana shook her head.

"Come on guys, don't be bitter," Pam said. "I did the Mega Mozzarella Challenge. The Mega Milkshake Challenge and the Peck of Pickled Peppers Prize!"

"And that was just **yesterday!** " Krieger said. "Today Pam just completed the Ice Cream Cake of Doom from Ice Scream!"

"And I got a bitchin' T-Shirt!" Pam showed them. "This is a major accomplishment."

"It used to be a major accomplishment if you got enough food to feed yourself and family for a **month**!" Lana told her. "Not eat a month's worth of food in a **day!** "

"You two are real buzzkills you know that?" Pam remarked.

"Sorry to rain on your cakewalk!" Mallory snarled. "I just remember a time when you ate to live. Not lived to eat! That people actually took their time and **savored** what they ate instead of stuffing their gullet as fast as they could!"

"It's not always about speed," Pam corrected. "It's also about endurance."

"What exactly do you get out of this again?" Lana asked.

"T-Shirts and my picture on the walls of fame!" Pam grinned. "And in some cases, free desserts for a year!"

"There's thousands of dollars saved **right there** ," Mallory remarked.

"I know it sounds crazy," Cyril began.

"That's because it is," Lana said.

"But it's a big thing in the restaurant business," Cyril said. "And it's local fame!"

"Pam could go all the way," Cheryl added. "And not the way she usually does."

"I've been working on this for months," Pam said. "I only have three challenges left to go!"

"Pam if eating was an Olympic event you'd destroy the Russians in an instant," Mallory groaned.

"Awww," Pam grinned. "Thanks! Anyway, what I have left is the Ultimate Margarita from Pita Margaritas. The Burrito of Death from Burrito Heaven. And The Fifteen Pound Platter from Ms. Wings."

"Honestly I would leave the Burrito of Death challenge for last," Ray said. "Build your stomach up to that."

"I was thinking the same thing," Pam said. "Since it will take a few more hours for the ice cream to settle in my stomach I figured I'd take a shot at the Ultimate Margarita tonight."

"What the hell is the Ultimate Margarita?" Mallory asked.

"It's a one-gallon margarita in a giant glass," Pam explained. "You have to finish it within a half hour."

"A **gallon**?" Lana gasped.

"Piece of cake," Pam waved. "Speaking of which I may need to have a bowel movement soon."

"But a gallon of **alcohol**?" Lana gasped.

"Actually, about half of that is ice and lime juice," Pam explained. "But yeah that is a lot of alcohol. But if you think about it, I've been training to complete that particular challenge for **years!** "

"You and **everyone else** in this office," Lana groaned.

"Only two other people have completed the Ultimate Margarita," Ray added.

"Are they still in a coma?" Lana asked.

"It's so big even **Ms. Archer** couldn't finish it all," Ray looked at her.

"I highly doubt it," Mallory gave him a look. "I outdrank Ernest Hemmingway. He never did recover after that defeat."

"Seriously?" Cheryl asked.

Mallory waved. "I know they say he committed suicide because of writer's block but I'm pretty sure the sexist pig never got over me drinking him under the table. Twice."

"Okay this I have go to see," Lana groaned.

"And I have got to pee," Pam went to the bathroom. "Well actually to take a dump but pee rhymes better…"

"I have got to get better people to associate with," Mallory groaned.

Later that night…

"There's a huge crowd tonight," Lana noticed all the people at Pita Margaritas. "What did Pam call in advance?"

"Not for this particular challenge," Ray said. "But some of them you have to call in advance."

"Normally I wouldn't be caught dead at one of these things," Mallory admitted. "But this I **have** to see!"

"How many people have actually tried this challenge?" Cyril asked.

"Over a hundred," Pam said as she made her way to the bar. "Most of them have failed. But tonight, that margarita bitch is going down! WHOOO!"

"Pam this is got to be one of the stupidest things you have ever…" Mallory began.

Then the bartender and two other servers hoisted a huge margarita glass the size of a small copy machine. Complete with salt on the rim. "That's the biggest damn margarita I ever saw!" Ray gasped.

"I've had dreams about margaritas that big," Cheryl whispered as they put a large straw in the glass.

"Me too," Krieger's eyes grew big.

Mallory looked at the drink. "Pam, I believe I owe you **an apology**! Bartender! Make that two!"

"What? Mallory are you…?" Lana gasped.

"The day I allow **Pam** to outdrink me is the day I enter into rehab!" Mallory snapped. "Not gonna happen!"

"You might want to have some crackers or something first," Pam warned her. "Even with something in your stomach that sucker is gonna hit you harder than Mike Tyson!"

"Pam I've been drinking before you were born!" Mallory made her way to the bar. "I'm going for it!"

"SHE'S GOING FOR IT!" Someone yelled and the bar cheered. A second giant margarita was served.

"Okay here are the rules," The Bartender said. "You have half an hour to drink every drop. No spillover. Any spillover, doesn't count. And after you drink you have to stand and stay conscious for three full seconds. Those are the rules. Are you ready?"

"Ready!" Pam cheered.

"As the kids say today," Mallory remarked. "Duh!"

"Begin!" The Bartender shouted. Both Mallory and Pam began to drink.

"It's starting to go down already," Krieger watched.

"I can't believe this," Lana blinked. "This is fascinating. I can't look away…"

"They're neck and neck," Ray gasped.

"I can't believe Ms. Archer is keeping up," Cheryl said.

"I can!" Ray said. "If anybody can give Pam a run for her money, it's Ms. Archer!"

"Come on Pam!" Cheryl called. "Beat that crazy old bat!"

"Don't listen to her Ms. Archer!" Cyril said. "Both of you just keep going!"

"I can't believe I'm watching this," Lana blinked.

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" The crowd chanted wildly.

Ten minutes later…

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

"They're both almost done already!" The Bartender gasped. "I've never seen anything like it! These two ladies are drinking almost in perfection! Nonstop! Neck and neck! But who will win?"

"I know who's going **to lose** ," Lana remarked. "Their livers."

"I'm not too worried," Ray said. "If their livers aren't dead by now, they're freaking immortal!"

"Hang on!" Krieger called out. "I think Pam is pulling ahead!"

Pam finished her drink as fast as she could. Then stood up lifting the empty glass with both hands. "AAAAAHHHH!"

"ONE! TWO! THREE!" The crowd cheered.

"WE HAVE A WINNER!" The bartender shouted.

"YEAH! THAT'S HOW YOU DO IT BITCHES!" Pam whooped drunkenly.

"Way to go Pam!" Cheryl cheered.

"I told you," Pam hiccupped as she put the glass down. "Easy peasy queasy…"

"Bad news is I think you're going to have to share this one," Ray noticed something.

"ONE! TWO! THREE!" Everyone called out as Mallory stood up after she finished her drink. "YEAAAAAHHH!"

"You **tied**?" Lana gasped.

"Called it," Ray said.

"I don't freaking believe this…" Cheryl groaned.

"I can," Cyril remarked. He had his phone in his hand recording everything.

"Eh, let her have her moment," Pam waved.

"And that's how it's done kiddies," Mallory hiccupped. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

WHAM!

Mallory passed out on the floor. "Told her she needed something in her stomach," Pam shook her head "Amateur! Excuse me."

WHAM!

Pam then passed out on the floor. "Wow," The Bartender said. "She lasted longer than all the other challengers. Still we have **two winners** for the Wall of Fame! Which means everyone gets a free round of drinks on the house!"

"YEAAAAAHHH!" The entire bar erupted in cheers.

"This is a great night!" Cyril cheered. He was still holding his phone recording the whole thing. "I can't wait to show this to Archer!"

"You mean because not only will Archer be pissed he missed a drinking contest he had no idea existed," Ray guessed. "But both Pam and his mother beat him to it?"

"Exactly," Cyril nodded. "And I get a free drink! I'm having a great night!"

"Yeah but what about **them**?" Lana pointed to Pam and Mallory. Some EMTs were checking them out.

"They'll be fine," One EMT said. "They should be up and around by Tuesday."

A few days later back at the Figgis Agency, Pam was strategizing with Lana, Ray, Cheryl and Krieger. Well maybe that wasn't the right word for it…

"Oh man," Pam groaned as she put an ice pack on her head. "How can I still have a hangover? Well hair of the dog!" She sipped a Bloody Mary.

"Hair? Pam you swallowed a whole pack of **Great Danes!"** Lana said.

"You realize you only have two more to go," Krieger said.

"The two hardest ones," Ray pointed out.

"Pam honey maybe you should take a break for a few weeks?" Lana suggested. "You're eating at a rate that even **your body** can't handle."

"Lana I'm a professional," Pam said as she casually took out a bottle of Tums and dumped half the contents into her drink. "Occasional aches and pains are part of the sport. If you can't stand the heat, get the hell out of the Miami Food truck!"

"She can't quit now," Krieger said. "She's in the home stretch."

"In my family completing restaurant challenges is a huge honor," Pam said as she took a drink of the Tums/Bloody Mary concoction. "Almost everyone in my family has done a few. Even Edie."

"I believe that," Cheryl nodded.

"My Great Uncle Lars holds the title of Most Challenges beaten," Pam said. "Twenty-three challenges. It would have been twenty-four if he didn't have that heart attack during that cheeseburger eating contest. He was on his last few bites too. Fortunately, the restaurant owner was a good sport and catered his funeral for free."

"So, you want to beat him," Lana guessed.

"Technically I already did that at a hot dog contest about three years ago," Pam said. "But winning this challenge won't hurt. Not to mention it will really piss off the rest of my family. In particular Edie. The only reason she's won the annual pie eating contest nine years in a row at the county fair is that I haven't been there. And a few other heart attacks from other family members."

"Have you ever failed at an eating contest?" Ray asked.

"Only once," Pam said. "I came up short in the Little Miss Wisconsin Cupcake Challenge. I only managed to eat 23 cakes before I puked all over the judge's dress."

"Ouch," Ray said.

"Well I was only nine at the time," Pam shrugged. "Still beat out Edie who only made it to nineteen. And she ralphed pretty much all the way home. My dad's old pickup never smelled the same after that."

"Is there another reason you're doing this Pam?" Lana asked. "Let me guess, you started doing this since Archer was in a coma?"

"Well you gotta admit it's a good conversation starter when he wakes up," Pam said.

"I'm still worried," Lana said.

"Quite frankly so am I," Pam sighed. "There's a reason I left the last two challenges for the end. But I can't back out now. I made the reservation for this Ms. Wing's weekend's challenge."

"You have to **reserve** for this one?" Lana asked.

"Lana it's fifteen pounds of every Chinese appetizer known to man!" Pam snapped. "They can't just whip that up on the fly! And I just made the last slot so…"

"Last slot?" Ray asked.

"They have a maximum of five people a challenge," Pam said. "There's four other guys competing. Honestly, I'm not too worried about the competition. What does worry me is the hot wings. Those suckers are glazed with a ghost pepper siracha sauce that's guaranteed to melt your lips off."

"You should save those for last," Ray said. "And put some of the crab Rangoon on them to balance out the heat."

"That was the plan yes," Pam said. "Which reminds me I need to get some training in. Krieger did you get the sauce?"

"Yes," Krieger took out a bottle. "They sell the exact same sauce Ms. Wings makes in a bodega a few blocks from here."

"Hand it over," Pam said. "Gotta start acclimating myself to the taste and the spice."

She took the bottle and dropped some sauce on her tongue. "WHOOOO!" Pam gasped. She then took a long drink from the concoction.

"Pam! Are you **okay?** " Ray asked. Pam held up a finger as she drank. "Pam! Pam!"

 **"Pam!"** Lana shouted.

"Good news," Pam gasped. "My hangover is gone…Wow this really is good sauce."

"This does not bode well," Krieger remarked to the others.

The night of the challenge at Ms. Wings…

"Look at this crowd," Cyril said as the gang went with Pam to her table. "Is that a TV camera? They actually **film** these things?"

"Uh yeah," Pam said. "There's this little show called Ultimate Eating Challenges Live! It's huge!"

"I had no idea competitive eating was such a huge thing," Lana remarked.

"That reminds me," Pam blinked. "Has Ms. Archer woken up from her binge yet?"

"Oh yeah," Lana said. "A few days ago. Now she's on another binge. Speaking of which. Pam honey you don't have to do this. You can still back out. I don't want to go to another funeral so soon…"

"Lana, I appreciate you worrying about me," Pam said. "But this isn't just about me and bragging rights. This is about family honor. And the honor of the Figgis Agency."

"It **is**?" Cyril blinked. "I mean _seriously?"_

"Well it sounded good," Pam shrugged.

"Let's face it Cyril," Ray said. "This will probably be the only **honest award** anyone from our agency will ever win!"

"Oh, dear God you're right!" Cyril groaned.

"I just scoped out your competition," Krieger told Pam. "Most of them are basically college kids doing it on a dare. The only one you have to worry about is Charles Dental."

"The Chomper is **here**?" Pam asked. "AKA the Mouth from Minnesota?"

"Who's he?" Lana asked.

"He's a regular on the competitive eating circuit," Pam said. "And last year he completed The Two Harbor double challenge. And he's challenged every single food challenge in the Midwest and won half of them. His stats are impressive."

"He has **stats**?" Ray blinked. "Like in baseball?"

"Impressive stats," Krieger said. "He's just starting the LA Food Run. He's the one you have to watch out for Pam."

"Krieger, I told you," Pam said. "In a basic competition like this it's not about how the other guy does. It's about how **you do.** The only person you compete against is yourself."

"Like Dancing with the Stars?" Cheryl asked.

"Only its your mouth moving and not your legs," Pam nodded. "Hey! Here he comes!"

A short fat man with balding black hair and a black jacket on his back walked up to them. "Well if it isn't Chomper," Pam grinned as she shook his hand. "AKA the Mouth from Minnesota. Good to see you!"

"Pam Poovey," Chomper said. "AKA Snowball AKA the Whale from Wisconsin. At last we meet. You're really coming up in the rankings. It's impressive."

"Thanks," Pam said. "You're doing well yourself. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"

"Well I heard about how close you're getting in the LA challenge and I decided to give it a crack myself," Chomper said.

"Well good luck to you on that!" Pam said.

"You too!" Chomper said.

"Wait you're competitors, right?" Cheryl blinked. "No trash talking? No 'You're going down'? **Nothing**?"

Chomper looked at Cheryl. "The combatant is against the **food** in this tournament not the other players! Does she not get how these things **work**? This isn't Coney Island!"

"She's new to this whole thing," Pam waved. "Don't mind her. Good luck man."

"You too," Chomper said. Soon they were at the tables where huge appetizer platters were brought out.

"Look at all that food," Cyril was stunned.

"That **one plate** could have fed my family for a **week** ," Ray gasped. "Lord when I think of all the times I had to hunt rabbits and squirrels for dinner…"

"What?" Lana and Cyril said.

"Nothing," Ray gulped.

"Here are the rules," A waiter said. "You have an unlimited amount of time and you can drink either water or beer. But you can't leave the table for any reason. Once your up, you're done!"

"Cake," Pam snorted.

"You're wearing a diaper in case, aren't you?" Cheryl asked.

"Adult leakage protection pad," Pam shrugged. "Doesn't hurt. Told you I've prepared for this."

"On your marks," The waiter said. "Get set…EAT!"

The contestants started chomping their food with gusto. And drinking. "Wait Pam's drinking **water?** " Lana blinked.

"It's a strategy," Krieger explains. "Alcohol actually inflames the hot sauce."

"I'm going for the hot wings!" Chomper whooped as he chomped on them. "Whooo! That's thirsty work!" He reached for the beer.

"Don't drink the beer dummy," Pam snapped. "That only makes it hotter!"

"Ah its fine!" Chomper swallowed the beer. "Its…. HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! MY LIPS ARE MELTING! MY STOMACH! AAAAHHH!"

"Oh my God!" Lana gasped as Chomper fell off the chair and thrashed around.

"Dude was showboating," Pam shrugged as she chomped. "He knew the score."

"Wow," Krieger blinked. "One out in less than one minute. That's got to be a record of some kind."

"Maybe Pam **does** have this?" Lana asked.

The following day back at the Figgis Agency…

"I got **this!"** Pam whooped as she showed off a gold trophy with a chicken wing on it. "As well as a little indigestion but it's worth it!"

"That's really neat Pam," Cheryl giggled as she and Krieger were in the bullpen with Pam. "Stupid parents! Why did they make me take stupid beauty pageants when I could have been learning to do **this?"**

"I don't know," Pam said. "They really should teach kids that. Those college kids barely even lasted twenty minutes. That one guy needed a diaper more than I did!"

"Pam you're just one challenge away from completing the LA Run!" Krieger said excitedly.

"I can't believe I only have one left," Pam said. "Too bad it's the biggest bitch of them all."

"The Burrito of Death," Krieger said. "That's a mother…"

"How big is it?" Cheryl asked.

"Only about five pounds," Pam waved. "It's not the size that's the problem. It's the fact that it's smothered in a pepper sauce that would make Satan cry."

"It's got a mix of ghost pepper," Krieger explained. "Pepper X, Carolina Reaper, New Mexico Madness, Dragon's Breath, Naga Morich and a bunch of other different kinds of hot peppers which is over a whopping 25 million on the Scoville Scale."

"Is that hot?" Cheryl asked.

"Let me put it to you this way, Cheryl," Krieger explained. "Imagine having to eat the sun. But first putting molten lava the sun. Then dumping a full bottle of hot tabasco sauce on that. Then put some hot spiced pork vindaloo on that. Then add more hot sauce and lava. And then sprinkling that with a mixture of Red Hots and cactus needles covered in ghost pepper sauce."

"That's hot," Cheryl blinked. "I like Red Hots. I wonder why I haven't eaten any in years? I'm going to go find some!" She scampered off.

"Krieger I barely passed the **last challenge** ," Pam groaned. "Those hot wings were intense enough even with the training and water. And in this one I don't even get **that!** I can't even wipe my face! I can't win a challenge like that!"

"Pam **nobody** can win a challenge like that," Krieger said. "The human taste buds are too sensitive to heat **that high**! The odds are purposely stacked against you! Unless…?"

"Unless what?" Pam asked.

"Well if somehow your taste buds were shall we say…Dulled," Krieger thought aloud. "Temporarily of course. With the right chemicals I think I might come up with a way to help you win this thing."

"You mean **cheating?** " Pam snapped. "You want me to **cheat?"**

"To be fair," Krieger pointed out. "Using that combination of peppers with that intensity is cheating in itself. You'd only be evening the odds. It will only temporarily numb your taste buds. Not your stomach. And you'd still feel the heat in your body."

"And it's technically not against the rules to numb the tongue," Pam realized. "In fact, The Tongue himself had been known to keep his tongue in some kind of weird ice pack thing for hours before he tackled Ms. Wing's challenge. And nobody said anything about **that.** "

"But just to be safe we'd better keep it on the down low," Krieger remarked as he pulled out a needle. "I'm gonna need some blood."

"What for?"

"So I can properly calibrate the dosage to you body chemistry," Krieger told her. "I'm a professional here."

"Since when?" Pam quipped as she let Krieger take her blood.

Several days later at the Burrito Heaven restaurant the Figgis Agency as well as a large crowd went to witness culinary history.

"Okay Pam, you've **got this**!" Krieger said to Pam as she sat down. "You've got this!"

"Don'ff worry," Pam sounded a little strange. "I'ff got thiff."

"Are you okay?" Ray blinked.

"Oh yah," Pam nodded.

"She's just got a slight case of…" Krieger paused. "Dry tongue. Yeah, that's the ticket."

"Uhhh…" Ray blinked.

Then the Burrito of Death came out. "Ugh…" Ray winced as tears came from his eyes. "Even the smell is strong!"

"Oh God!" Lana winced. "Even standing **over here** it affects me! Ugh! I can't imagine eating something like that! That can't be good for you!"

"Better her than us," Cyril admitted. "Geezy Pete! That's strong. What is that thing covered in? Tear gas?"

Pam blinked. "Leff do thiss. I mean let's do thisss…Dry tongue. Yeah. That's the ticket."

"Here are the rules," The waiter said. "You have to eat the whole thing in under forty-five minutes. No water or milk. No wiping any sauce off your face. You are allowed to blow your nose and any minor accidental dabbing is allowed. But don't try to misuse it. And you have to wait thirty seconds before drinking or you are disqualified."

"What kind of crazy ass rules **are these?"** Lana said. "It sounds like torture!"

"Huh?" Cheryl blinked. "Maybe I **should** try some competitive eating? Just for fun!"

"No, you **don't!"** Ray snapped.

"Remember Pam," Krieger said. "Just eat on through and don't stop. Whatever you do. **Don't stop**!"

"Got it," Pam nodded.

"The clock starts…" The waiter held up his hand. "NOW!"

Pam tore into the burrito. "She's starting strong," Krieger said. "Just don't stop Pam! Don't give it a second."

"Wow," Ray blinked through some tears. "I can't even stand here without being affected by that thing. How is Pam **doing this**?"

"My taste buds are getting sore just being in the general vicinity of that death trap!" Lana admitted. "I mean I know Pam's strong and has unbelievable endurance. But this is more than I thought she could do…"

"Go Pam go!" Cyril shouted. "Come on Pam! I believe in you!"

"You do?" Cheryl blinked.

"You bet money on this didn't you?" Ray groaned. "I'll take some of that action!"

"Me too!" Lana said. "Fifty on Pam winning!"

"No way!" Another guy shouted. "She's going down!"

"Place your bets folks!" A man shouted. "Place your bets!"

Pam kept eating as money exchanged hands. She had an occasional tear but kept going. "She's over the halfway mark already!" Krieger said.

Then Pam burped loudly. "Uh oh…" She blinked. Her face was starting to get red.

"Don't stop!" Krieger shouted. "Just go! Go! Go!"

Pam took another large bite. "Whoa…Whooa!" Tears started to come out of Pam's eyes. "Hot! Hot! **Hot!"**

"Uh oh…" Krieger winced. "Damn it. I knew that thing was too hot!"

"Agk! Agk!" Pam took another bite but had trouble swallowing. "God Damn…It feels like I'm swallowing lava! With acid covered cactus needles on top! And Red…Hot! HOT! HOT!"

"The heat must have turned up her body metabolism burning through the…" Krieger stopped. "Never mind."

"What?" Lana did a double take.

"JUST KEEP GOING PAM!" Krieger shouted. "YOU ONLY HAVE A FEW BITES LEFT!"

"YOUR CHALLENGE IS ALL WE'VE **GOT!"** Cyril shouted. "GO PAM GO!"

"She's not looking so good!" Lana said.

"Yeah she looks really red now," Cheryl giggled. "And sweaty!"

"She's **stopping!** " Krieger said. "Don't stop Pam! Go! You only have a few bites left!"

"Urrkrrkkkrrrr!" Pam was extremely red now and looking very much in pain.

"She's not gonna make it!" Lana gasped.

"She has too!" Cyril shouted. "I bet a hundred bucks on her!"

"REALLY CYRIL?" Lana snapped. " **THAT'S** YOUR PRIORITY RIGHT NOW?"

"Pam!" Ray had an idea. "If you blow this, your bitch sister Edie will never let you **forget** it! YOU GOT THIS! IF YOU DON'T SHE WILL NEVER LET YOU **FORGET IT!"**

"UGGGGHHH!" Pam was sweating even more now and had a wild look in her eyes.

"GOT IT PAM?" Ray shouted. "SHE WILL **NEVER** LET YOU FORGET IT! YOU REALLY WANT TO GIVE EDIE SATISFACTION LIKE THAT?"

"DON'T LET THAT BITCH WIN!" Krieger said.

"IF YOU WIN THIS EDIE **LOSES!** " Cheryl added.

"DO IT PAM!" Cyril shouted. "DO IT TO BEAT THAT BITCH DOWN! YOU WIN THIS AND EDIE WILL SUFFER THIS HUMILIATION **FOREVER!"**

That did it. Pam wolfed down the last bits of the burrito. The crowd cheered. "She still has thirty seconds to go!" The waiter shouted. "Thirty! Twenty-Nine!"

"Just hold on Pam!" Lana shouted.

"You can do this!" Ray said. "Remember, this is to **beat Edie**!"

"Imagine how she's going to scream in agony when you win!" Cheryl shouted. "Nothing's better than the anguish of your relatives when you beat them!"

"Beat Edie!" Cyril shouted. "BEAT EDIE!"

"BEAT EDIE! BEAT EDIE!" The Figgis Agency chanted.

"PAM! PAM! PAM!" The crowd changed.

"Five…Four…Three…" The waiter counted as he held a huge glass of milk in front of Pam. "TWO! ONE! YOU DID IT!"

"AAAGGGGHHH!" Pam screamed as she grabbed the milk glass and chugged it down. The crowd went wild.

And then so did Pam.

"AAAAHHHHH! HOT!" Pam ripped off her clothes revealing her bra and panties. She then ran to the back of the store, shoving people out of the way until she got to the soda machine. She turned all the spouts on and started to drink, letting the soda wash all over her body.

"That is a hot burrito," Ray blinked.

"She doesn't get disqualified for that does she?" Cyril asked as he pointed to Pam.

"Oh no," The waiter said. "This has happened before. Usually though this happens **during** the middle of the challenge."

"SHE'S LICKING THE ICE MACHINE!" Someone shouted.

"Uh oh…" The waiter went to go restrain Pam. " **That's** new!"

"Well no one can accuse her of cheating now," Krieger remarked.

"What?" Lana and Cyril looked at him.

"Nothing," Krieger gulped.

"SHE'S BROKEN INTO THE FREEZER!" Someone shouted. "DEAR GOD SHE'S LICKING THE MEAT! AND EVERYTHING COVERED IN FROST! INCLUDING THE SHELVES!"

"Uh oh…" Lana blinked. "Don't get in her way! Don't…"

"AAAAAAHH!" A waiter was thrown across the room.

"Yeah don't do that," Lana groaned.

"Oh god! My eyes!" Someone screamed. "She's naked and putting all the frozen meat all over her body!"

"Dukes!" Ray groaned as the Figgis Agency went to check on Pam.

"Aaahahhhhhh!" Pam was lying on the floor naked underneath a pile of frozen meat. Then she passed out with a smile on her face.

"Is she dead?" Cheryl asked.

"No, but I suspect her eating career is," Krieger said.

"There goes all my winnings," Cyril groaned.

"As well as this restaurant's health code," Ray added.


End file.
